Latest revision as of 18:53, 13 July 2009

My furlough soon neared its end; there were only four days
left. I remembered a good old friend in a Rhenish town. My plan
was made. Without my family noticing it I packed a suit, boots,
and all necessities, and told them at home that I was going to
visit my friend. To him I revealed my intentions, and he was ready
to help me in every possible manner.

My furlough was over. I put on my uniform, and my relations
were left in the belief that I was returning to the front. I went,
however, to my friend and changed into civilian clothes. I destroyed
my uniform and arms, throwing the lot into the river near by.
Thus having destroyed all traces, I left and arrived at Cologne
after some criss-cross traveling. Thence I journeyed to Duesseldorf
and stayed at night at an hotel. I had already overstayed my leave
several days. Thousands of thoughts went through my brain. I was
fully aware that I would lose my life if everything did not come
to pass according to the program. I intended to cross the frontier
near Venlo (Holland). I knew, however, that the frontier was closely
guarded.

The country round Venlo, the course of the frontier in those
parts were unknown to me; in fact, I was a complete stranger.
I made another plan. I returned to my friend and told him that
it was absolutely necessary for me to get to know the frontier
district and to procure a map showing the terrain. I also informed
him that I had to get hold of a false identification paper. He
gave me a landsturm certificate which was to identify me in case
of need. In my note-book I drew the exact course of the frontier
from a railway map, and then I departed again.

Dead tired, I reached Crefeld that night by the last train.
I could not go on. So I went into the first hotel and hired a
room. I wrote the name that was on the false paper into the register
and went to sleep. At six o'clock in the morning there was a knock
at my door.

"Who is there?

"The police."

"The police?

"Yes; the political police."

I opened the door.

"Here lives . . . ? (he mentioned the name in which I
had registered).

"Yes."

"Have you any identification papers?"

"If you please," I said, handing him the landsturm
certificate.

"Everything in order; pardon me for having disturbed you."

"You're welcome; you're welcome," I hastened to reply,
and thought how polite the police was.

That well-known leaden weight fell from my chest, but I had
no mind to go to sleep again. Whilst I was dressing I heard him
visit all the guests of the hotel. I had not thought of the customary
inspection of' strangers in frontier towns. It was a good thing
I had been armed for that event.

Without taking breakfast (my appetite had vanished) I went
to the depot and risked traveling to Kempten in spite of the great
number of policemen that were about. I calculated by the map that
the frontier was still some fifteen miles away. I had not much
baggage with me, only a small bag, a raincoat and an umbrella.
I marched along the country road and in five hours I reached the
village of Herongen. To the left of that place was the village
of Niederhofen. Everywhere I saw farmers working in the fields.
They would have to inform me of how the line of the frontier ran
and how it was being watched. In order to procure that information
I selected only those people who, to judge by their appearance,
were no "great lights of the church."

Without arousing suspicion I got to know that the names of
the two places were "Herongen" and "Niederhofen,"
and that a troop of cuirassiers were quartered at Herongen. The
man told me that the soldiers were lodged in the dancing ball
of the Schwarz Inn. Presently I met a man who was cutting a hedge.
He was a Hollander who went home across the frontier every night;
he had a passport. "You are the man for me," I thought
to myself, and said aloud, that I had met several Hollanders in
that part of the country (he was the first one), and gave him
a cigar. I mentioned to him that I had visited an acquaintance
in the Schwarz Inn at Herongen.

"Yes," he said; "they are there."

"But my friend had to go on duty, so I am having a look
round."

"They have got plenty to do near the frontier."

"Indeed? "

"Every thirty minutes and oftener a cavalry patrol, and
every quarter of an hour an infantry patrol go scouting along
the frontier."

"And how does the frontier run?" I queried, offering
him a light for his cigar.

He showed me with his hand.

"Here in front of you, then right through the woods, then
up there; those high steeples towering over the woods belong to
the factories of Venlo."

I knew enough. After a few remarks I left him. All goes according
to my program, I thought. But there was a new undertaking before
me. I had to venture close enough to the frontier to be able to
watch the patrols without being seen by them. That I succeeded
in doing during the following night.

I hid in the thick underwood; open country was in front of
me. I remained at that spot for three days and nights. It rained
and at night it was very chilly, On the evening of the third day
I resolved to execute my plan that night.

Regularly every fifteen minutes a patrol of from three to six
soldiers arrived. When it had got dark I changed my place for
one more to the right, some five hundred yards from the frontier.
I said to myself that I would have to venture out as soon as it
got a little lighter. In the darkness I could not see anything.
It would have to be done in twilight. I had rolled my overcoat
into a bundle to avoid making a noise against the trees. I advanced
just after a patrol had passed. I went forward slowly and stepped
out cautiously without making a noise. Then I walked with ever
increasing rapidity. Suddenly a patrol appeared on my right. The
frontier was about three hundred yards away from me. The patrol
had about two hundred yards to the point of the frontier nearest
to me. Victory would fall to the best and swiftest runner. The
patrol consisted of five men; they fired several times. That did
not bother me. I threw everything away and, summoning all my strength,
I made in huge leaps for the frontier which I passed like a whirlwind.
I ran past the pointed frontier stone and stopped fifty yards
away from it. I was quite out of breath, and an indescribable
happy feeling took hold of me. I felt like crying into the world
that at last I was free.

I seated myself on the stump of a tree and lit a cigar, quite
steadily and slowly; for now I had time. Scarcely fifty yards
away, near the frontier stone, was the disappointed patrol. I
read on the side of the frontier stone facing me, "Koningrjk
der Nederlanden" (Kingdom of the Netherlands). I had to laugh
with joy. "Who are you?" one of the German patrol called
to me. "The Hollanders have now the right to ask that question;
you've got that right no longer, old fellow," I replied.
They called me all manner of names, but that did not excite me.
I asked them: "Why don't you throw me over my bag which I
threw away in the hurry? It contains some washing I took along
with me so as to get into a decent country like a decent man."

Attracted by that conversation, a Dutch patrol, a sergeant
and three men, came up. The sergeant questioned me, and I told
him all. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Be glad
that you are here---wij Hollanders weuschen de vrede (we Hollanders
wish for peace), and you are welcome here in hospitable Holland."

I had to go with the soldiers to their guard-room and take
breakfast with them. Thereupon they showed me the nearest road
to Venlo, where I arrived at seven o'clock in the morning. From
Venlo I traveled to Rotterdam. I soon obtained a well-paid position
and became a man again, a man who could live and not merely exist.
Thousands upon thousands of Belgian refugees are living in Holland
and are treated as the guests of the people. There are also great
numbers of German deserters in Holland, where their number is
estimated to be between fifteen and twenty thousand. Those deserters
enjoy the full protection of the Dutch authorities.

I would have never thought of leaving that hospitable country
with its fairly liberal constitution if the political sky had
not been so overclouded in the month of March, 1916.